


Ends

by ice_cream_assassin



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:16:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ice_cream_assassin/pseuds/ice_cream_assassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kind of written to fill this prompt: George trying to comfort his friend who is still very much in love with Nick but Nick has called the whole thing off, leaving David a needy, broken mess. Comfort sex would be a bonus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Fill focused more on the Clameron fall out with a hopeful Camerborne ending. Another attempt to try to get over the writing block.

It began in the Rose Garden. With jokes and smiles. With good will and all the promise of a new politics on the horizon. It started with a press conference and power pats as they walked through the door to Number 10, as close together as the doorway would allow. Dave and Nick. Nick and Dave. 

They were the nation’s sweethearts. And it bled through to their policies and coloured their working relationship to a more intimate one. When did they start believing the newspapers and BBC correspondents that talked about their body language and their lingering glances and what it all meant? David thought it was always there. Nick assumed it happened sometime after the June emergency budget. 

We shouldn’t. We can’t. Somehow those words translated into Nick’s hand clutching David’s under the Cabinet table. Or David’s bright eyes watching every move Nick made until he left the room. Shouldn’t. Can’t. But yet afterwards, when the ministers retreated to their departments, with the door closed and lights out so the cameras could only see their shadows, David would find his stomach pressed against the unforgiving table with Nick’s nails digging into his skin. 

++

He later told George. “He never said he loved me. Never said he hated me, either.” 

++

Nick could tell Danny about broken promises and half-hearted commitments. About how David thought compromise must be a one way street. He may bend over and let Nick fuck his arse, but he fucks Nick in a myriad of ways. 

David could tell George about Nick’s temper that spills over like water from a broken glass. David has to be the sponge to soak that up, has to because he needs to preserve their agreement for both of their sakes and Nick sometimes will lose sight of it. 

The thing is they could tell everyone about their mutual disappointment. But it doesn’t matter. Not now because this is the Coalition and any amorous intent eroding away. This is how they are falling apart in real time. 

++

He goes to the Number 10 flat because George is there. George is his friend, a shoulder to cry on, to confess to. He doesn’t judge David when he explains what had been going on between him and Nick in private, right up to Nick’s spectacular tantrum about Lords Reform. He pours the scotch and David cries. “I think they were silly fights over nothing.” 

They are nothing now and he wonders if the government will survive after the valuable time that the Olympics bought for them. George hugs him tight. They survived David’s leadership challenge, Corfu, and years in opposition. They’ll get through this and be stronger for it. 

++

It ended in the Rose Garden. 

He knows they officially ended at seven minutes past two in the afternoon. David just had to follow the vague scent of cigarette smoke to the bike shed. No CCTV, no photographers. Just a perfect place for a sneaky fag with the occasional nosy cat or aide. Nick was there and his eyes narrowed when he saw David and his hair was fluffy and windblown. David remembered a better time when they were out in the garden. 

They rehashed a familiar argument. David heard “David, liar, powerless in the face of unruly, backwards, nut-jobs.” 

Nick heard “Nick, impotent rage, self-righteousness, immature, not ready for government, no one cares, go away.” 

He told David to “Fuck himself.” A cell phone started ringing and remained ignored. 

David said he was sorry for what went wrong, invited Nick back to the flat. He remembered Nick’s hand on his back, his head on Nick’s shoulder. He whispered to Nick that he won. The bastard won. He gave in, Lords Reform, another chance at AV, gay marriage, whatever he wanted. Eyelids down, tears down. 

Nick did not accept. He remembered. All that was left was the dulled stride of his feet across the grass and the imagined click of the door as it closed when Nick re-entered Downing Street. Without him. 

It was done. 

++

Conference season ended and David was not over Nick. He toyed with the idea of courting UKIP just to spite the LibDem. The sofa in the corner of George’s office is where he found solace. He cried against George, not having to be embarrassed by the gentle trembling of his shoulders and red eyes. And they have a script for these days when the memory of being with Nick is just too much. David is scared because hazel eyes implore him to just for once go off their usual routine. 

Their hands laced together, and David always looks like he is about to tell George some terrible news and it is terrible because love ruins everything. It could possibly ruin them if David gave them the chance to go that far. Slim fingers caressed the back of his hand. “You deserve better.” He whispered. 

“I know.” Was the brief response from David. And in their silence, David watched George and his subtle gestures of comfort toward David. Curiosity replaced tears. And maybe he was done faltering without Nick. 

“When a door closes, another opens?” David asked watching George quirk an eyebrow and slowly understanding. He laughed with an honest gaiety that he had been lacking, cajoled and eventually kissed his stunned friend. George rewarded him with a bright smile that reached his eyes. A smile that was so very un-Nick-like. 

“Another opens.” George said, kissing David back.


End file.
